Lauren chuckled and rubbed her lover’s back. “I don’t think she sleeps very well alone.”
“Very true.” Dev nodded as she glanced over at her mother, hoping that she would take pity on her. When her mother showed no signs of yielding, Dev’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t want me cranky from lack of sleep. I know where the button is.”
“What button?” Ashley asked innocently.
“Never you mind,” Janet answered quickly.
Frank chuckled at the poorly veiled look of outrage mixed with helplessness that colored his daughter’s face. “Sorry, Stinky. You’re out of luck tonight. Come on, the boys and I will walk you down to the cabin.”
Ashley charged up the steps and took Lauren’s hand. “Me and Grandma are going to take Lauren into the house.”
“Grandma and I,” Lauren and Janet corrected in unison, turning to each other and exchanging small, slightly embarrassed grins.
Bewildered, Ashley scrunched up her face. “No. I am.”
Lauren smiled at the girl. “I’ll explain later.”
Dev didn’t want to, but reluctantly she relented with a groan and stood up. “All right, I can see the whole family is in on this so I’ll just surrender now and save you all some time.” She held her hand out to Lauren. “Can I at least say goodnight to her?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Aaron said from his grandfather’s shoulders.
Lauren bit her lip to keep from laughing as she watched Devlyn stand there, waiting impatiently for everyone to leave so she could kiss her goodnight.
No one moved.
Dev glared at her parents. “Fine.” She leaned down and kissed Lauren soundly before turning on her heel. She started descending the porch steps, then changed her mind halfway and stopped on the bottom one. She turned and pinned Lauren with loving, fiery blue eyes. The younger woman fought hard not to swoon on the spot. “I love you. I can’t wait for tomorrow.”
“Me, too,” Lauren heard herself say as she stepped closer to Devlyn.
Dev smiled and leaned forward a little, bracing her hand on the railing as she stretched to steal one last kiss before heading down the walk. She spoke without turning around. “Does anyone want to sleep with me tonight?”
Lauren was so close to shouting “Hell yes!” that she had to clamp her hand over her mouth, much to Janet’s amusement.
The older woman couldn’t help but chuckle indulgently.
Frank winced as his eardrums shook from the sound of childish squeals as Aaron began climbing down his back.
“Me! Me too! I wanna come,” Aaron and Christopher screamed, beginning to scramble towards Devlyn.
Ashley looked torn, glancing between her mother and Lauren with slightly panicky eyes. The blonde woman smiled gently at the girl and mouthed a silent “thank you.” Then she gestured towards Dev with her chin and winked. “Go on. There’ll be lots of nights just for us, sugar.” Affectionately, she petted Ashley’s soft, dark hair. “I promise.”
Ashley beamed and bolted for the stairs. “Me, too, Mom!” she called out, quickly catching up to her brothers.
Frank wrapped his arm around Lauren’s shoulder as the porch’s remaining occupants watched Devlyn’s children rush to her, eager for her time and undivided attention, two things which were all too rare in the President’s life.
Gremlin sat down next to his mistress, content to let Princess scamper off after the children. It was hard to be truly lazy in the company of his sometimes-demanding mate.
“One last night of freedom for you then?” Frank said to Lauren, wondering if the young writer knew exactly what she was letting herself in for by marrying into the Marlowe clan.
The corner of Lauren’s mouth twitched as her gaze followed her loved ones. She sighed. “I’ve already had freedom, Frank. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. That over there…” She paused and joined Janet in a quiet round of laughter as Devlyn tried to pick up both Aaron and Christopher at the same time and ended up flat on her bottom in the middle of the path. Then Ashley threw herself on the pile, and Dev looked up and flashed Lauren a beaming smile… just before she yanked up Christopher’s shirt and began mercilessly tickling his belly.
Lauren’s heart skipped a beat at the happy sight. “That’s the good stuff.”
* * *
Thursday, June 30, 2022
DEV PACED BACK and forth, stopped, ran her fingers through her hair, and then paced some more. Moments before, she’d ordered all staff members, except for David, out of her parents’ home, and the children downstairs. They were making her crazy. Normally composed and confident, she was nervous as hell and couldn’t find it in herself to even try to hide it.
She hadn’t seen Lauren all morning, her stomach was in knots, the weather had turned nasty, and she was quite sure — mostly because she had been pointedly told so by Michael Oaks — that no amount of cover-up was going to hide the dark circles around her eyes.
Last night had been filled with restless dreams, none of which, to her frustration, she could remember. “Bet you slept like a log, Lauren,” she mumbled, admittedly jealous that her lover never appeared to mind their occasional nightly separations as much as she did. Devlyn had never liked sleeping alone, and she couldn’t count the number of nights she’d sneaked into her parents’ room and climbed in between them. A smile touched her lips at the comforting memory.
She hitched up her pantyhose, cursing the ever-sagging crotch, and plopped down in the chair by the window of her childhood bedroom, its soft, soothing blue tones doing little to calm her nerves. Devlyn realized, with a start, that after she started bringing Samantha home, she’d stopping coming into this room completely, having graduated to one containing a queen-sized bed.
But here she was, and it was just as she remembered it. An extra-long twin bed was tucked neatly in the corner. Maps of the world and pictures of far-off, exotic places she’d dreamed of visiting adorned the walls, and photos of her parents and cousins sat neatly on her windowsill. Her bookshelves were crammed with paperbacks and dotted with a few trophies she’d collected during her high school athletic career. It even smelled the same, like the strawberry candles she’d taken a liking to in her teenage years mixed with the faintest hint of Brasso, used to polish the eagle bust that sat proudly on her desk. She smiled faintly at the statue that her mother had lovingly maintained all these years.
Wistfully, Devlyn wondered why she hadn’t taken the childhood treasure when she moved away from home. She reached out and touched the cool metal, letting her fingers warm it as she thought. The answer came to her with surprising speed. It belonged here, just as she did. She nodded a little to herself. She liked the fact that she knew it was here waiting for her if she ever needed it.
Dev stuck her head between the curtains and interestedly watched the caterers doing their best to avoid the fat, pelting raindrops and Secret Service agents filing in and out of the large tent, which appeared to sway a little in the gusting wind. She gulped, vowing to kill Michael Oaks if that tent, which was his idea, came down with her family inside. Hell, maybe she’d kill him anyway, just for fun.
Indulging herself, she smiled wickedly at the thought.
Thunder boomed overhead and Devlyn tilted her head skyward. “Please don’t let a tornado pick up our wedding tent.” She was mostly joking, but when the thunder boomed again, even louder, her eyes widened. She began thinking of all the things that could go wrong, and her heart began to thump wildly. Hastily, she rattled off a long list of promises in exchange for smooth sailing on this day, including her eternal devotion to her family, the Constitution, and everything else she considered sacred, ending with a heartfelt, “And puhleeeez don’t let me throw up in front of everyone. Again. Amen.” Her father still teased her about her high school graduation commencement speech, despite the fact that she’d become an accomplished and charismatic public speaker over the years.
Growing too nervous to sit and do nothing while she waited for her dress to be brought in, she shrugged i
nto a bathrobe that was a little too small and opened her bedroom door. Peering over the second floor railing, she spied David and her dad sitting in the breakfast nook by the big plate glass window, having coffee in their tuxedos.
“Oooo…” she cooed appreciatively, taking a big whiff of the heady aroma. “Any of that left for me?” Dev tightened the sash of her robe and bounded down the stairs. Her hair was plaited in a neat, glossy braid that trailed down her back and a light coating of makeup was neatly in place. She could always redo her lipstick after she drank her coffee.
“Careful there, young lady,” Frank chided gently, eyeing her intently as she bounded down the stairs, full of nervous energy despite her lack of restful sleep the night before. “The last time you did that you twisted an ankle.” A white eyebrow arched. “Besides, shouldn’t you be getting dressed?”
Several creases appeared on Dev’s forehead as she frowned. “My dress isn’t here yet. I assumed Mother was bringing it. She must still be with Lauren.” She grabbed David’s wrist and looked at his watch. “I’m starting to get a little nervous; the wedding is due to start in an hour.” She glanced around. “Where are the kids?” Then she heard the sound of arguing, squealing, and running coming from the next room and rolled her eyes. “Never mind.” She lasted all of two seconds before yelling, “Boarding school in Antarctica for the lot of you, if you don’t quiet down!”
The children giggled at the familiar but meaningless threat, but did quiet down.
David picked up the coffeepot and poured Dev a cup. “Your dress will be here soon, Dev. Sit here for a few minutes and relax.” He pushed the sugar and cream toward her. “I remember a time when you drank it black.”
She lifted the sugar bowl. “Lauren didn’t start drinking coffee until after she met me and this is the way she prefers it. I started using a little cream so now we can drink each other’s coffee without gagging.”
David smirked and made a quick motion with his wrist to simulate the snapping of a whip.
Dev’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem?”
“Ugh. That is just too sickly sweet,” David teased.
Ebony eyebrows lifted. “This from the man who doesn’t mind sharing his wife’s toothbrush.”
“David,” Frank gave him a squinting stare. “As a physician, I can safely say that that is truly disgusting.”
David’s jaw dropped. “One time! I used Beth’s toothbrush once after I lost mine on a camping trip and no one will let me forget it.”
Dev smiled at her chief of staff’s indignant look. It was easier to focus on him rather than her own rattled nerves. She asked, “How long did Beth make you sleep on the couch for that? Hmm?”
David opened his mouth to answer. “Well—”
“Enough chit chat,” Dev interrupted grumpily. “I am not getting married in my bathrobe.” She looked at David, suddenly feeling a little unsure. Maybe she should have paid more attention to the planning of this event. “Right?”
David blinked. “Of course not!”
“Then where’s my damn dress?”
Frank asked, “Haven’t you seen it?”
Dev shook her head in short, jerky movements that made her agitation clear. “They only took my measurements,” her gaze narrowed, “a dozen times. I’ve never seen it.” She turned panicky eyes to David. “What if the designer forgot it and is too afraid to admit it?”
With an exaggerated sigh, David pulled out his cell phone and dialed. He spoke quietly into the tiny device then flipped it closed, placing it on the table. “It’s on the way right now. Your mother is bringing it over after she takes care of some special guest.” The tall man shrugged.
Dev chuckled. “Since when is Aunt Myrtle special? The last wedding the woman went to, someone told her to bring birdseed to shower the happy couple with — the crazy old bird threw the entire bag at the bride and knocked her unconscious. The whole wedding party ended up in the emergency room, waiting for my cousin to come to.”
David just looked at Devlyn. “Is that a true story?” he asked incredulously.
Frank sighed. “I’m sorry to say it’s true. Aunt Myrtle is one of my more interesting relatives.”
“I guess that answers my question,” David muttered, taking another sip. “I’ll make sure security frisks her on the way in. Anyway, according to Agent Tucker your mother is due here in three minutes.”
Dev let out a tiny grunt. She didn’t want to be late for her own wedding.
“By the way,” David said, “the no-fly zone is in place.” A loud clap of thunder boomed. “Not that the tabloids would risk their helicopters in this weather anyway. Between that order and this weather, you’re going to have a nearly normal wedding.”
“Thank God.” Dev slumped down in her chair. She looked at David’s watch again, missing Liza and her ever-present alarms and electronic calendar. “Aren’t the three minutes up yet? I want to see the dress that’s costing me a small—”
“Ahem.” Frank’s gave his daughter a look.
Dev blushed. “Sorry, Dad.” She trained her eyes on her coffee cup. “That’s costing you a fortune.”
Frank gave her a small smile. “Devil, do you really think, with all the people working to make this day a success, the least of which is your mother, that anything is going to go wrong?”
Dev’s shoulders slumped. “I know, Dad, but I love Lauren so much. And I want this to be perfect for her. And you always expect something to go wrong on your wedding day. And—”
“Don’t say another word,” Frank warned, pressing his fingers against Dev’s lips. “Let’s not give the wedding gremlins any ideas, okay?”
“Good plan,” Dev mumbled against his fingers.
The door opened and Janet entered with a huge garment bag. She was wearing a cream-colored suit, and low appreciative murmurs — that she was too preoccupied to hear — bubbled forth from Frank and David. She licked her lips and drew in a deep breath before addressing Dev. “Now, honey…”
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” Dev bolted from the chair. “That’s bad. You never start a conversation with those words unless it’s bad.” She turned wide eyes on David, who did nothing to comfort her.
“Very bad…” he agreed readily.
“What is it?” Frank asked impatiently, getting up from the table and loosening his bow tie as he moved towards Janet.
Janet closed her eyes and laid the garment bag on the table. Then she took a step back as though the bag was filled with explosives. Instinctively, everyone in the room mirrored her actions.
Gaping at the black bag, Devlyn began to sweat. “Oh, God. Oh, God,” she repeated numbly.
“You already said that.”
“Shut up, David, or you’ll be wearing whatever’s in that bag.”
Dev’s voice was as menacing as he’d ever heard it, and the redheaded man turned to gauge his boss’ sincerity. He gulped and looked back at the bag. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
“Come on, now,” Frank said reasonably. “How bad can it be?”
Three sets of incredulous eyes swung his way.
“Really,” he persisted. “Surely you’ve seen it before this morning, Janet. You—”
“No,” Janet corrected quickly. “That damn designer got all sensitive when I wanted to see it. He pitched a fit and started to cry. To cry!”
“Real tears?” Frank asked, astonished.
“I swear to God,” Janet answered, wringing her hands. “There was so much else to do and Michael assured me that Devil had approved everything. But—”
“Enough!” Dev groaned. “Mom, I take it you peeked in the bag?”
Janet nodded miserably, her lower lip trembling, though Dev couldn’t tell if it was from laughter or tears. “May God have mercy on my miserable soul.”
“Where’s the liquor?” David asked loudly, on his way to the refrigerator to see what he could scrounge. “I need a drink.”
Dev’s arm shot out, and she grasped David by the lapel. “Oh, no you don�
�t. You’re going to open that bag and show me what I’ll be wearing on the biggest day of my life.”
“A smile?” David said, trying to salvage a bit of good humor.
“Only if I get to kill someone.”
“Open the bag, Frank,” David instructed, rapidly moving as far away from Devlyn as he could. Where was Beth when he needed her? She could tackle Dev if she had to, while he ran and hid behind the Secret Service.
“For Pete’s sake! What in the Sam Hill is wrong with you people? It’s only a dress.” Frank quickly unzipped the bag and, with some effort, pulled out the dress, not really taking the time to look at it as he tugged it free. “There.” He held it up, and his voice faltered. “See.”
Collective gasps went around the room.
“Holy shit!” Frank exclaimed, dropping the dress as though it was on fire.
Janet’s mind raced as she tried to think of something, anything, to make Devlyn feel better. “Well, it’s… um… pink and… err…”
“Poofy,” David supplied. “Really, amazingly, gravity-defyingly-poofy.”
“Sweet Mother of God!” Dev’s eyes were the size of saucers. She wasn’t sure whether to burst into tears or laughter. Maybe she’d just do both. “No!” she scrambled away from the dress as though it was a plague shroud. “Wait.” She suddenly stopped. “You don’t really think I’m going to wear this, do you?” She looked hopefully at her mother, who couldn’t meet her gaze.” I don’t believe this! “No way! No! I will not wear that to my wedding. I’ll look like Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother… on crack!”
“But I like the big floppy flowers glued onto the sleeves,” David supplied, smiling wanly at Dev’s murderous glare. “They remind me of those things you put on the bathtub floor to keep from slipping. Only the ones in my house are better looking.”
“I won’t do it,” Dev announced, lifting her chin. “I won’t.” She waggled her finger at her mother. “And you can’t make me. I don’t care if you went through 29 hours of brutal labor. No. No. No.”
“Honey,” Janet soothed. “The wedding is due to start in 20 minutes. You could wear the pants you came over in, I suppose. Or just go ahead and wear the dress, it is the style… umm… somewhere, I’m sure.” But the doubtful note in her voice was clear. “Anyway, we just don’t have time to find anything else. You’re too tall to borrow anything of mine.”
First Lady Page 20
